


Run to Me

by Pure_Anon



Category: Anastasia - Flaherty/Ahrens/McNally
Genre: Alternate Ending, F/M, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Not Canon Compliant, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Originally written because of the Anastasia Broadway production closing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:21:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27693343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pure_Anon/pseuds/Pure_Anon
Summary: “One day you’ll just take me with you.”“One day when I hold a gun, run to me and hug me and kiss me and then we’ll leave.”Anya reaches out before Gleb leaves, and they are both better for it. Based on a conversation Christy Altomare and Max von Essen had on her Instagram live.
Relationships: Anya | Anastasia Romanov/Gleb Vaganov
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	Run to Me

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on the date the original Broadway production of Anastasia closed. Yes, I did write an alternate Glenya ending to say goodbye to the original production; it's very valid of me.

“Long life, comrade,” Gleb says, and bit by bit, she sees him become the collected officer again.

Anya feels him hesitate before he pulls his hand from her grasp. Her own hand feels oddly cold without his firm grip.

She watches the stern line of his retreating back, and wonders how he can pretend as if nothing had happened, as if they could both forget. She starts to turn away, but then —

Then he looks back, and his facade cracks. For a moment, she feels like she sees right to his soul. There’s something so desperately vulnerable in the way he looks at her, in the way he drinks her in, the way a hint of tears show, and she realizes —

If he leaves, if she _lets_ him leave, he’ll walk to his death. The image of him crumbled and bleeding, those sad eyes empty and dark is starkly painted across her mind, and she can’t bear it.

Her arm reaches out, and catches his almost before she realizes it.

As their gazes collide, he doesn’t resemble the vulnerable man of moments before. Instead, he looks cold and harsh, but even so, she can’t let him go, not like this.

“Gleb,” she says, “I can’t let you leave.”

Something flickers in his gaze as she speaks, and he quickly looks away from her, “I understand. I’ll turn myself in, if that is what you wish —”

“No!” she says, “I don’t want that, I want — I want to understand.”

It’s too vague, too unclear, and yet, somehow, she knows he’ll understand what she means.

“I just couldn’t,” he finally says, his voice ragged, “I couldn’t look at you standing there, and shoot you. I _couldn’t_. I’m not my father; I can’t look at you and see someone who stands in the way of the revolution. I can only see _you_. I see a woman who wants her family back. I see someone who deserves life, who deserves to be happy,”

He looks at her, finally, and the heavy weight of his gaze makes her shiver, “And you will have that. I will leave, return to Russia, and take whatever punishment they see fit. You will have your family, and I will never trouble you again — ”

He starts as she cups his face.

She meant to say something, but there’s something in his eyes that prevents her. She knows that look in his eyes, knows it for she carried that feeling in her heart for ten years.

What’s in his eyes is _longing,_ and suddenly everything makes sense.

Something in her face must show what she knows, because he sighs and says softly, “I didn’t mean to — I didn’t know it would end like this. I’m a _fool_ , and I’d hoped for something, once,” he says, and the look on his face breaks her heart, “But it was a dream, nothing more, and I know you must hate me but —”

She wraps her arms around him, and he cuts off suddenly. It’s like she’s embracing a statue at first, but then his arms come around her, and he _crumbles_. They fall to the ground together, both seeking mutual comfort.

Part of Anya is screaming at her to let him leave, that he _doesn’t deserve this_ , but another part of her is noticing how his tears feel upon her shoulder, how he tries to disguise the catch in his breath, and she holds him tighter. She can’t, _won’t_ let him leave, not now.

It is a long time before she says softly, “I’m not going to take the throne, Gleb, but I won’t return to Russia,” she feels him tense as she speaks, and continues, saying, “I’m not meant for royal life, but I can’t leave my Grandmother. We need each other.”

He’d pulled his head up as she spoke, and his eyes ask what he doesn’t say as she speaks again, “And Gleb, I think — I think you need someone too. I want you to stay here. I don’t want you to return to Russia, I don't —"and she finds she almost sobs at this, “I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself because of me. I want you to be happy.”

She touches his cheek again, and slowly brings her face to his, kissing him for a brief moment. It’s not a confession, because she doesn’t feel that way, not yet, but it’s a promise. A promise that here, there will be a place he can rest, a place he can smile, a place where he can allow himself to be happy. A place where he doesn’t have to be the Deputy Commissioner Gleb Vaganov, but just _Gleb_.

“Stay,” she says.

It takes him a moment to respond, but he brings his hand to her cheek, slowly, as if he’s afraid she’s going to pull away, and the look in his eyes tells her his answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at https://nanasalt.tumblr.com/post/183844244451/run-to-me
> 
> Christy and Max's conversation that inspired this fic can be found at https://nanasalt.tumblr.com/post/180879638547/christy-altomare-and-max-von-essen-joking-about-an
> 
> You can find my tumblr at pureanonofficial.tumblr.com


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